


All the Things I Want to Say

by crystalforgetmenots



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Self-Indulgent, Unnamed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), warrior of light is a lightweight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27492031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalforgetmenots/pseuds/crystalforgetmenots
Summary: The Scions enjoy a quiet night of stories and gossip while the Warrior of Light realizes she's lost her tolerance for wine. This was a bad idea, wasn't it?
Relationships: Scions of the Seventh Dawn & Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	All the Things I Want to Say

Did wine always taste this  _ good _ ? She couldn’t really remember. The last time she had been this deep in her cups must have been… right after she got to Limsa Lominsa for the first time? Yes, she had celebrated joining the Maurader’s guild and ended up at the Drowning Wench. She hadn’t touched alcohol since the whole being-accused-of-regicide-and-fleeing-to-Dragonhead thing. But it had been years and she was emotionally overwrought and it was on the house, so… what was the harm?

Hey, why was the floor moving?

That was how she ended up sitting around one of the tables at the Rising Stones with her friends, watching them banter around with each other. She remained silent, focusing mostly on trying not to appear as drunk as she felt, which seemed pretty normal to the others. It wasn’t until Alphinaud, damn that boy, caught her gaze that she realized her plan was about to critically fail.

“Are you there, friend? You seem a little unsteady.” His voice sounded concerned, causing the others to slowly turn their gazes onto the Warrior of Light, Slayer of Primals, Defender of Eorzea desperately trying not to fall out of her chair.

When she spoke, her words came out mostly ummangled, if a bit slurred together. “I’m alright... Just a bit drunk,” she admitted, grinning sheepishly.

“You only had one glass, I saw. Are you really this much of a lightweight?” Alisaie’s voice cut through the noise, her jeering causing the woman to recoil like she’d been struck.

Urianger, surprisingly, was the one to come to her defense, glancing up from his glorified tarot cards just long enough to study her with his piercing gaze. “If thine words speak true, I would surmise our Champion hath merely lost her tolerance.”

She nodded quickly, only to regret it moments later when it felt like a screwdriver was being driven into her skull. “Thank you, Urianger! You know, I used to think you were weird, speaking in riddles all the time. But now I know it’s just part of your charm. Plus, you saved my ass tons of times while we were hunting the Lightwardens. So your weirdness gets a pass.”

Silence fell over the table. First to speak, surprisingly, was Y’shtola, a thin smile playing its way across her face. “Did you just say something nice about someone who isn’t dead? I didn’t think you could do that.”

“How dare you, I am a very nice person, I’ll have you know. I just… don’t like to be mushy.” She crosses her arms over her chest in an over-dramatic pout. Alisaie is the first to take the bait.

“I don’t believe you. Say one nice thing about me. I’ll bet you can’t,” she challenges, crossing her arms to mirror the Warrior of Light.

She considered for a moment, tapping her cheek, making a dramatic show of racking her brain for a single nice thing to say. “I can rely on you to impulsively use your strongest ability whenever you have enough aether, even if it means nobody else can use theirs. The way you say “there will be nothing left of you but a smoking crater!!” is a nice touch.”

Alisaie huffed, flushing warm with embarrassment. “You’re not the only one allowed to have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Maybe so. But I also appreciate the way you’re so determined. Like saving Halric. Even if it meant sculpting one of the most deformed clay creatures I have ever seen in my life.” The words came easier to her, now that she had enough alcohol in her system. She felt like she could finally say all those things she could never say otherwise. Quickly, before anybody else could break in, she turned her gaze back to Alphinaud, who was watching with a mildly amused expression. “And you! You’re like the little brother I never had. It’s almost hard to believe you were this self-important brat when we first met! And I never told you this, but I was so proud when you survived that trial by combat thing in Ishgard. I thought for  _ sure  _ you were a goner. But it’s no surprise I guess, remembering those stories Krile told me about your days at the Studium.”

It was Alphinaud’s turn to flush, both the twins shrinking back from the woman who was grinning like a kid in a candy store. “What,  _ exactly _ , did Krile tell you, friend?”

“What’s this about trial by combat, hmm?” Y’shtola asked, leaning back in her chair.

Before Alphinaud could object, she launched into telling the story about how he and Tataru got accused of heresy and how she had to swoop in and save the day. “The two Heavens’ Ward weren’t that difficult to beat. So much for most elite knights or whatever. But I guess that’s to be expected. I’m the damn Warrior of Light, I swing my axe at problems and make them disappear.” She hesitated for a moment, before continuing, “I’ve wished I was smart like you ever since we met in La Noscea. When you guys talk about aetherology or the Lifestream or magic, you completely lose me. I have no idea how any of that works. I just beat shit up and call it a day.” Silence fell for a few seconds before she quickly added, “I would, however, appreciate it if you could  _ not _ use Flow at every opportunity? It’s kinda a bad spell, yeah?”

Soft laughter drifted through the air at Y’shtola’s expense. Thancred, trying to retain some sense of responsibility, spoke up after a few more moments. “Okay, I think that’s enough commiserating for the time being. Maybe you should go rest up?”

“I’m fine, Thancred. Really, you’ve become such a  _ dad _ , worrying about everyone all the time. It’s hard to believe you were ever a trainwreck like you were when we first met.”

And now Thancred was roped into her scheme, cringing a little at the mention of his past. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

She leaned over and put an arm around his shoulder, giving him a weak one-armed hug. “I mean, yeah. You kinda were. But it’s hard to believe, considering how good you were with Ryne. I’m so proud of you for becoming like a father to her, even if you’re still kind of a bastard.”

Something drips off her face onto the back of her hand resting in her lap, her voice heavy and more slurred.

“Hey, are you… crying?”

“No! I’m just… thinking about how lucky I am to have such great friends! You all have been there for me and I’m so thankful for every single one of you. I thank the Twelve every day that you’re all still here and breathing and alive, even if you all annoy the hells out of me sometimes.”

The doors to the Rising Stones opened, three new voices greeting the Scions. The Warrior of Light leaned back in her chair to catch sight of the entrance and grinned, tossing up a hand to wave. “Hello! Good to see you all back safe,” she called to the Miqo’te and two Lalafell entering the room, perhaps a little more excitable than normal. She went to go push away from the table, momentarily forgetting about physics, and crashed onto the ground, chair and all.

A few of her friends called her name with varying levels of concern, but she just shook her head and pushed herself to her feet. She stumbled again and grabbed onto the nearest arm she could to right herself.

Her momentary crutch, G’raha Tia himself, smiled at her, not seeming to mind the contact. “It seems you’ve had quite a few drinks since last we spoke, hmm?” 

And at that moment, the Warrior of Light forgot about everyone else. She reached out with her other hand and put it on his cheek, smiling vacantly. “You’re so pretty.”

It was G’raha’s turn to look like he’d been struck. He didn’t pull away, probably too afraid she would fall over, but he cast his gaze behind the woman in front of him, scanning over their friends. Y’shtola, covering her mouth with one hand, held up one finger and pointed to the single empty cup in front of where the Warrior had been sitting.

Taking his lack of response in stride, she continued, “I was so afraid that the crystal-soul-thing would fail and your soul would disappear and then I’d be out another friend. I’m kind of running short on those! You’re not allowed to die, okay?” Her voice grew quieter as she cast her gaze towards the floor, letting her hand fall away from his face. “Too many people have died in the last few months.”

G’raha couldn’t seem to pull together a coherent sentence after that, crimson as bright as his eyes dusting his cheeks. Ever the helpful one, Tataru carefully grabbed the Warrior’s sleeve and pulled her back to her now righted chair. “I’ll go get you some water, then?”

She nodded softly, wiping her eyes with her hands. “This place would fall apart without you, Tataru. We’d all be broke and starving and completely hopeless. And I don’t think we tell you that often enough!” The Lalafell grinned at her, simply nodding her hand and walking away, suppressing a giggle. Oh, she’d have  _ fantastic  _ blackmail material for later.

Krile steps forward, sweeping her gaze over her friends, all in various states of inebriation, a clearly unimpressed look on her face. “Well, seeing as I am the last remaining functional adult in the room-,” she tried to say, quickly being cut off by the cries of her friends trying to salvage their dignity. She continued, louder than before, “I think you could all use some sleep. Alisaie, will you please take our esteemed champion back to her room? I do believe she has said enough for one evening.”

Before Alisaie could answer, the woman in question got to her feet without help, surprisingly, and tried to give her best smile. “I can take myself! Thank you, Krile, for being the ‘last remaining functional adult in the room’. Pretty sure half the people in this room would be soulless husks without you.” And with that, she headed for the doors with a quick wave and a giggle, only having to brace herself against the wall twice. Alisaie, for her credit, got up and followed anyway, jabbing her in the ribs with a laugh.

Krile, satisfied with the outcome of the situation, turned on her heel to go into Dawn’s Respite, mumbling to herself about grabbing a book she’d left in there while tending to the Scions.

“Wait, Krile!” Alphinaud stood up, calling out to the retreating Lalafell. She stopped and turned to face him, tilting her head. “What stories did you tell our friend about me?”

Krile raised an eyebrow, merely shrugging in return. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! c:
> 
> raise your hand if you've ever been personally victimized by the "wol avoids alcohol" joke in-game.


End file.
